


As You Wish

by Mackem



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Dom/sub, Dominance, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Service Submission, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-26
Updated: 2012-09-26
Packaged: 2017-11-15 02:48:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mackem/pseuds/Mackem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim knew full well what orders did to Len.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As You Wish

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the third round of [km-anthology](http://km-anthology.livejournal.com/). The prompt was “service kink”. Cheerleading duties were performed admirably by [canistakahari](http://archiveofourown.org/users/canistakahari), who is the reason this is finished at all, and the dear [looking-spiffy](http://looking-spiffy.livejournal.com/) provided beta duties. Could the title be any cheesier?

This time it started in the mess hall, of all places.

Jim knew full well what orders did to him. Not _all_ orders, of course. If Leonard went weak at the knees at every little order, he would have lasted perhaps an hour in Starfleet before coming all over himself in front of an instructor and either being kicked out on his ass or dragged into disciplinary procedures.

(That was the scenario he liked to picture, at least. The idea of being brought before somebody to whom he would have to answer for his misbehaviour; somebody important, somebody with authority, somebody such as, to pick a random example, Admiral Pike…well, an idea like that could send shivers up his spine and make him arch desperately into the touch of his own hand.)

But the right kind of order, given by the right person, could do just as much for Len’s prick as an enthusiastic application of hands, lips and tongue. Leonard had spent a good few years figuring this out about himself, in the midst of lovers he was too wary to open up to, and a marriage that fell apart at the seams. To his chagrin, it had taken Jim a fraction of that time to break through his defences and see just how much of a thrill he got from being obedient.

Perhaps it proved they were a good match. It was not as if they had just exchanged a glance and known each other inside-out; Len did not believe either friendships or people could really work like that. No, they had simply bonded over time, finding themselves first seatmates, then roommates, then “besties,” as Jim termed it, then…more. Both of them had found it natural to be honest together, to stop guarding their hearts for fear of them being crushed and to trust that they would protect each other. When Jim first had experimentally ordered Leonard to kiss him, they felt as if a spark of electricity had crackled between them.

Later, when both were satiated and tangled in bed together, they had put that spark into words; words such as, “I trust you,” “I want this,” and, “I promise I will never hurt you.” Leonard had fallen asleep contented and safe in Jim’s arms.

At no point had Jim actually said, “I will push this further than you could hope it would go,” but Leonard had gleefully taken that as read.

***

They met in the mess hall, as usual. They fetched their food and sat down together, as usual. Jim had his padd with him, as goddamn usual (“It’s called a lunch break, Jim. A lunch _break_. You better not be working or so help me, I will drown that thing in Spock‘s god-awful soup.”). Len was reminding Jim that he was due his next physical in a couple of weeks, when Jim interrupted.

“I’m an idiot, I forgot to get a fork. Hey, Bones, go get one for me, would you?”

Leonard’s eyes widened of their own accord. His breath seemed to catch in his lungs for a second. Jim glanced up at him from his padd, sapphire eyes of sparkling with a mix of challenge and mischief. While phrased as a question, Leonard knew all too well from his tone that the ‘would you?’ was superfluous. When Jim looked at him like that, with a smirk spread across his lips and a light dancing in his gaze, no amount of fake-casual intonation could hide his real intent; Leonard would obey, and obey _now_.

Still, since when did Jim pick the damn mess hall to start talking to him like that? He had not even had the decency to pick a quiet time for his sudden game; half the goddamn ship seemed to have crowded in to eat, surrounding the two of them on all sides. This was a stupid idea. They were sitting in the midst of both colleagues and friends, people who they worked with and had earned respect from, and Jim had decided to embark on a path that was likely to leave both of them hard in their pants. This was the definition of a stupid idea.

And yet…

Len swallowed as he glanced around, and Jim’s smirk merely widened, as if he could read Leonard’s thoughts. Hell, he probably could. “What’s wrong, Bones?” he murmured, his voice low enough to carry only to Leonard as he turned his gaze back to his padd. “Are you worried everybody’s gonna see how obedient you are for me?”

“I’m worried my Captain’s cracked himself on the head and all the crazy’s spilling out,” he retorted, huddling down in his seat. “You haven’t thought about what you’re doing? We work with these people! Some of ‘em are our friends!”

“You haven’t thought that maybe our workmates and friends already know how much you love following orders?” Jim asked innocently, and Len choked a little. “Or maybe they don’t. Maybe they’d like to find out, though. I _could_ make it a bit more obvious for them. I could order you to crawl over there for me, and fetch me a fork using only your mouth.”

“Jim!” he hissed, his cheeks flushing even as his treacherous prick stirred.

“I still don’t have a fork, Bones.”

“Lazy brat,” Leonard snapped, for the sake of anybody listening in. Maybe just for the sake of his own pride, if he had to admit such a thing.

It took a deep breath for him to get to his feet, and perhaps he shouldered through the crowds a little more than was strictly necessary, but he made it back to his seat with a fork in his hand, his dignity intact, and the image of himself crawling on hands and knees in front of his co-workers fixed shamefully in his mind. He satisfied himself by smacking the fork down onto Jim’s tray and ignoring him in favour of eating.

Ignoring him, that is, until Jim leaned across the table and murmured, “There’s my good boy,” with lips brushing against his ear. Hunched over with his head down so nobody would see him blush, Leonard wondered how he could make it to their quarters without anybody noticing he was half-hard and growing more interested by the second.

They left the mess hall together. Not when Leonard was finished eating, of course. Not even when _Jim_ was finished eating. Len found himself staring at his plate for fifteen long minutes after Jim set his cutlery down, impatiently pushing a stray few crumbs around and surreptitiously watching him poke around on his padd. “What’re you doing?”

“Not much. Playing Angry Birds. Why?”

“For god’s sake, Jim! I know damn well what you’re up to,” Len growled accusingly.

“Oh?” Jim raised an eyebrow, but did not move his eyes from his padd. His tongue poked out of his mouth as he slid his fingers across the surface. “What am I up to?”

“You’re - you’re playing more than one game right now, kid, I know that much.”

“Yup. What’re you gonna do about it?” Jim asked in a sing-song voice. Leonard bristled.

“I’m gonna head on back to our quarters, is what,” he said, and rose to his feet to prove he meant business. He made it all of two steps away from their table before he froze in his tracks at Jim’s next words.

“You’re going to stay right where you are, Bones,” he said firmly, and suddenly fixed his gaze on Len. He shivered instinctively as Jim’s eyes roved over him. “G’on. _Sit_.”

The ridiculous squeaking noise made by the chair when his ass landed back in it produced startled looks from the other diners, and laughter from Jim. Leonard spent the next few minutes squirming in place, a glare aimed directly at Jim as he played with his padd, until Jim looked up and beamed.

“You finished up in here?” Leonard bridled, leaning over the table to jab Jim in the shoulder with an accusatory finger.

“So help me, kid, I will -”

“ - C’mon. Let’s hit our quarters. We got a date with a bed.”

***

If Jim was going to make Leonard march through the ship with a dangerously noticeable bulge in his pants, Leonard was damn well going to make sure he chewed Jim’s ear off the entire way. “…and another thing, have you even considered what’ll happen if anybody sees me like this?”

“Pfft, Bones, when am I _not_ thinking about people seeing you rock hard and ready to go?”

“Of course you do,” Len sighed, glancing around furtively. “Because you’re a pervert.”

“I’m an opportunist.”

“And what opportunity do you expect to be faced with when somebody sees their goddamn Chief Medical Officer skulking around the ship with his dick standing to attention?”

“The opportunity to order my CMO to drop to his knees, open his mouth and show that lucky person exactly how much he wants to come,” Jim grinned as they reached their quarters.

“One of these days I’ll get used to your filthy mouth,” Len grumbled.

“Oh man, I _really_ hope not,” Jim laughed, and waggled his eyebrows as he sauntered into their quarters. “C’mon. In here, with me. Now.”

“You’re so goddamn eloquent,” Len sighed as he traipsed after him. “How could I refuse?”

“You’ve never refused me yet,” Jim said. He caught hold of Leonard as he headed past, and with a shove had him pressed up against the closed door, hands firm on his shoulders with Jim flush against him. Len rocked his hips against him with a groan until Jim spoke up. “Nu-uh, stay still.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Leonard ground out, his head thunking back against the door as he tried his best to stop leaning in to every teasing touch. “You think all it takes is one order, and I’ll do everything you damn well want?”

“I don’t just think it, I _know_ it. You ever notice that, Bones?” Jim took advantage of his position, leaning in to brush his lips over Leonard’s bared throat; the tip of his tongue darted over his skin, aimlessly tracing designs, before he pressed a light kiss over his thrumming pulse. “I’ve never given you an order you’ve refused to follow. Even right in the middle of the mess hall, you still did what I asked. Why?” he murmured against Leonard’s ear. Len’s eyes closed of their own accord.

“You don’t know?”

“Oh, I know. I just like to hear you say it. Tell me,” Jim commanded softly, the light scrape of teeth over his throat an intoxicating counterpoint to his mild tone. “Tell me, Bones.”

“Because it makes me so hard,” Leonard gasped. “ _You_ make me hard, Jim!”

“Yeah? Prove it to me.”

“Goddamn you,” Len whimpered. He took Jim’s hand from his shoulder and dragged it down between their bodies, pushing his palm against the length of his excited prick through his pants and rocking eagerly into his touch. “Can you feel what you do to me? How damn hard you get me?”

“How could I miss it?” Jim laughed. He leaned in to claim Len’s mouth in a hard kiss, grinning obnoxiously as Len thrust insistently against his hand, panting. “You having fun there, Bones?”

“Not nearly enough,” he growled. “Goddamnit, Jim, would you fuck me already?”

“Pushy, pushy,” Jim said lightly. He moved away after pressing a final kiss to pouting lips. “We’ll get to that when I’m ready. First, I want you to undress yourself for me. Give me a show.”

Of course Jim settled himself on the couch to watch with his feet up while Leonard stripped himself, struggling to slow impatient fingers. Of _course_ he did. Because Jim was a fully-fledged, grade A _jackass_ who liked nothing better than to bring Leonard further down into the space that drifted in his head without lifting a finger.

But he could find very little to complain about when it worked so well. By the time Leonard slipped his fingertips under the waistband of his boxers and allowed the material to slide down his bare legs, leaving him naked and trembling in Jim’s heated gaze, he felt himself floating; his thoughts sinking deeper into himself, relaxing him as he felt the worries he carried around on heavy shoulders drifting away. He blinked expectantly at Jim and saw a fond smile bloom on his lips.

"There's my good boy," Jim said. "You know exactly how to show yourself off, don't you? You know just how to get me hard." Len moaned softly, thrilled as ever by the idea that this gorgeous kid could be turned on just by watching him. Jim rose to his feet and moved close, running his hands over his bare chest.

"What do you want next, hmm?"

"Want you to fuck me," Len mumbled. He reached out to Jim, relishing the feel of his uniform against his own flushed skin as they kissed, pouring his desperation into the gesture. Jim laughed softly as he pulled away.

"Very persuasive. But what will you _do_ next?"

"Whatever you order me to," Len murmured. "Please, please Jim-"

"-undress me," Jim demanded, and Leonard sighed in relief. This was progress, of a sort. Jim smiled at the slight shaking in his fingers as he hurriedly dragged his clothes off, but made no comment about his eagerness. He only laughed when Len took the opportunity to mess his hair up while pulling his shirt and undershirt off, though he did run his own fingers through Leonard's hair in revenge. He blinked up at Jim through his tousled fringe as he knelt to guide his pants off, and smiled as he reached to remove his underwear.

"Nope, leave them there, for now," Jim ordered, and Leonard whined in frustration. He could see how hard Jim was, could see the damp spot left in the cloth where precome had spilled already. This was too much to be denied, and a spark of rebellion flashed through him. Huffing his protest, Len leaned even closer to Jim and nuzzled at his dick through the material of his underwear, blowing teasing breaths over his sheathed prick.

"So keen," Jim laughed. He aimed a devious smirk down at Len and stroked his hair. "C'mon then, if you want it so bad. Blow me. Ah -" he said, and issued a warning tug on Len's hair as his fingers curled in the waistband of his boxers, "Did I say you could take 'em off?"

"What the hell are you babbling about?" Len huffed, and even as he whined, he squirmed as his prick swelled appreciatively at the commanding fingers wound tight in his hair.

"You’ve got such a talented mouth, Bones, why don't we give you a challenge? Show me what magic you can work through my underwear." The shameful groan Leonard was helpless to stifle produced a dark grin from Jim, and those large hands in his hair guided him unstoppably closer.

The act of kneeling up to trail his tongue over the heated press of Jim's hard cock through his boxers made him groan, flushed with mingled shame and delight. He gloried in the taste of precome on the cloth and sucked wetly at the flushed head, eventually settling his hands on Jim's backside to steady himself. His fingers gripped tightly at toned flesh as Jim stroked his hair, murmuring filthy encouragement that set Len's head spinning. "Yeah, like that...you love this, don't you? Doing exactly as you're told, proving how obedient you can be...such a good boy for me, Bones. So gorgeous, on your knees where you belong, desperate to have your mouth on me - it makes you hard, doesn't it? Being good, bringing yourself down just because I tell you to. You don't even need to speak to beg, I know," he murmured as Len nuzzled into the now-soaked cloth desperately, breathing in his scent and pressing wet kisses against heated flesh.

“Please, Jim,” he mumbled, “Please, I want to suck you - I want you, please!”

“No,” Jim replied, and Leonard heard himself whimper. He moved his hands, determination striking through him, and hooked his fingers inside the elastic to pull down just an _inch_ \- until Jim fisted a hand in his hair and dragged him away. “I said no!”

“Damn it, Jim, I want -”

“- you want to do what you’re told,” Jim scolded. He pushed Len down firmly, and took a step backwards, a frown on his face. “Stay there!”

“Jim,” Len said desperately, his cheeks reddening at the whine in his voice, “I need you, I want you inside me, please!”

“Patience: you need some,” Jim smirked. He slid his own fingers into his boxers and tugged them down, freeing his stiffened cock. The wet cloth was left carelessly abandoned on the floor as Jim took the opportunity to stroke himself, sighing softly. But to Leonard’s moaned displeasure instead of coming closer he moved back to their couch, settling himself with his long legs up and crossed at the ankle. “You know you slowed us down, right, Bones?”

“We couldn’t get much slower!”

“You wanna try me?” Jim countered. He laughed as Len hung his head, issuing a brief yet emphatic shake as he bit his lip to stop himself snapping. “That’s what I thought. Now…I want you bent over the bed. Ass in the air. Oh, and you‘ll need some lube, get that on the way,” he said with a broad grin.

Len mentally described the look he aimed at Jim as ‘mutinous’, but could hardly argue with biology. His cock was hard and leaking, impossible to hide as he crossed their room and sullenly did as he was told. He could sense Jim’s gaze upon him as he moved, and stubbornly ignored him for as long as he could. Not until he had folded himself in half over the foot of their bed did he allow himself to glance back at Jim; those blue eyes were roving over him, drinking in his pose with an intensity suggesting he was attempting to memorise the moment. “Why don’t you take a picture, instead of just sitting there and gawping?”

“Because if I had pictures of you like this, I’d be so tempted to show ‘em to everyone I know and bellow, ‘LOOK AT THE HOT!’ in their faces,” Jim laughed. He looked Len over appraisingly. “Spread your legs a bit more. And your hips, arch ‘em up higher. God, you look so good,” he sighed, his hand wrapping around his prick to stroke himself as Len obediently shuffled his legs further apart and presented his backside to Jim. “I’d get a good squeeze of lube onto your fingers, buddy. Unless you want me going in dry?”

Len bristled. “You’re not going to -”

“- you’re preparing yourself,” Jim interrupted, and his firm tone brooked no complaint. “You ignored an order, so you need to show me you can listen. Lube. _Now_.”

The lube was cool against his heated flesh, but it was Jim telling him precisely how to stretch himself that made Len shiver. “Stroke the pad of your index finger over that sweet little hole of yours for me. That’s it, just like that. Tease around it - stroke up your crack a little way, Bones, I know that drives you mad. Now, push your fingertip inside, just a _little_ way. I know it’s not enough for your greedy hole, but it’s a start, right? How does it make you feel? You comfy?” he asked, chuckling as Len groaned.

“Oh sure, this is how I like to relax,” Len ground out, neck craning to look over his shoulder at Jim with one hand at his ass and another struggling to support himself. “I live for the nights I can spend at ninety degrees over my bed, trying not to suffocate myself in my own sheets. This is _not_ the best position to stretch myself open in, Jim!”

“I know,” he shrugged, with one arm rested comfortably behind his head, and his other hand still ever so gently teasing his dick. “When did I ever say I wanted to go easy on you? Plus you’re so pretty like this, Bones! You belong in a gallery.”

“It’d be one hell of a pervy gallery, kid.”

“The only gallery worth visiting,” Jim said seriously. “Okay. Get to work with that finger, Bones. Let’s give that needy asshole of yours what it wants.”

“It wants _you_ ,” Len muttered, cheeks flaming as he pushed a single finger inside himself, relieved with the permission to stop teasing.

Jim made him drag it out, naturally. The kid had proven time and time again that he loved to see Leonard squirm; to gradually bring him to the brink of desperation and make him beg for relief, only to back off and begin the whole teasing cycle again. Somehow, it was only worse when Leonard was doing it to himself. Being told, in a low, filthy voice, to crook his fingers and rub all three of them over his prostate until he saw stars left him supporting himself on shaking legs, his eyes screwed up and his mouth begging endlessly for mercy of its own accord. “Please, p-please, Jim! I c-can’t - I’m so close!”

“I can see that,” Jim murmured from behind him, and when the hell he had abandoned the couch to sneak close Len could not say. He gasped at the sudden touch of hands against his heated skin, one gripping his hip and the other wrapping around his neglected prick. “Both hands on the bed, now, Bones. You look like you’re about to be in trouble. You can’t last much longer, huh?”

“N-no!” Len managed, and groaned as Jim fisted his cock. Any relief was short-lived; Jim slid slick fingers along his length and swirled his thumb over the flushed head of his dick, before tightening his grip at the base.

“Then I’ll help you out a little. I’m not here to set you up to fail, Bones, I don’t want to give you an order you can’t follow,” he whispered, bent double over Len to whisper against his ear. “So I won’t order you not to come, not today. You can wait until I let go, though. Can‘t you?”

“Don’t seem like I got much choice about it,” Len ground out, and moaned at the sharp pinch his left buttock received. “Dammit, you asshole, _yes_ , I’ll wait!”

“Good boy,” laughed Jim.

Len’s hands fisted the sheets desperately at the slow, blunt push of Jim’s cock into his hole. He felt as if electricity were crackling along his nerves as Jim slowly sheathed himself deep inside, stretching him further and filling him more perfectly than mere fingers ever could. Jim whined when he was buried within Len, leaning over him with an arm supporting himself as he began to move slowly into his welcoming heat. “Fuuuuuck, _Bones_ , why do I ever make us wait for this!”

“Your powers of asshattery know no bounds,” Len muttered, his voice thin and desperate as Jim adjusted his angle and thrust hard against his prostate.

He knew exactly what he was doing; Len suffered through torturous minutes of Jim rocking harder into him, working his prostate with each push. He bit his lower lip in an attempt to muffle his desperate whimpers, panting raggedly as Jim held firm around his prick, but eventually he could take no more. With his face hidden against his arm and a hand tangled in his dishevelled hair, he begged. “Christ, Jim, I c-can’t wait - waited long enough, please, please!”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Jim panted, and Len felt the grip around his cock lessen, fisting him loosely once more. “C’mon, Bones. Come for me.”

He could not have disobeyed, even if he wanted to. Len spilled over Jim’s hand with a hoarse cry that he tried, and failed, to hide by biting his own arm. He moaned weakly as Jim thrust into him a few further times then collapsed atop him, laughing ever so softly.

It was a few more minutes before either of them had the inclination to move.

“I have this thing,” Leonard mumbled eventually, “You might have heard of it.”

“Mmm?”

“’s called a back. It’s in one piece right now, but if you don’t haul yourself up off me right now, you’re gonna break it.”

“You calling me a fatass, Bones?” Jim asked, but he had the decency to scramble off Leonard while he was saying it. The slap he planted on his ass as he went was less than decent, but at least it got him moving.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m calling your muscled-and-toned-to-perfection self a fatass,” he yawned, stretching and wincing after so much time bent over. “I need a shower.”

“Make it quick. Then come straight to bed with me,” Jim said with a lazy smile, and Leonard grinned. Maybe not every order made him ready to drop to his knees and open wide, but every now and then he received an order that made him dizzy with delight, an order that he would never dream of refusing.

“As you wish, kid.”


End file.
